so tell me when you're gonna let me in
by i forgot to blink
Summary: And don't you see, this could be so easy, we were made for each other.


**Notes and Disclaimer**

Written post-finale in an effort to HEAL MY BROKEN HEART. Built around Angel's ChloexAlek fanmix which can be found at http : / / dandelioninthespring . tumblr . com / post / 9058584716 / chloe-alek-a-kiss-of-poison-and-wine-fanmix (remove the spaces) and please listen to it because it is lovely. Dedicated to Angel and Aimee, who are the only two people I know who watch this show. Beware angst and spoilers for Episode 10. Reviews are very much appreciated!

**so tell me when you're gonna let me in**

**i.**

_only you own and rattle my bones_

_you turn me over and over_

_till i can't control myself_

_make me a liar, one big disaster_

This is as Alek remembers the last happy day: Chloe's voice breathless in the dusk, her hair unruly and glowing gold under the neon lights. He pulls her close for soft, sudden kisses, between the games and the Ferris Wheel rides, swallowing her laughter and the taste of cotton candy in her mouth. He can't help himself. He's hoped for this for so long that he has to keep touching her skin, keep feeling the blood rushing through her veins, just to make sure she's there, that this is all for real.

Turns out it wasn't. Not really. And now, even though he'd savored every moment, he's lost his grasp on that day the way he's lost everything else. He's disoriented; he can't be sure if it was a memory or a dream.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

**ii.**

_the words you say_

_melt away every single inhibition i've got_

_i think we might be_

_on to something_

Chloe kind of gets it, okay. She's better off with Brian. He makes her feel cherished and secure and he's steady and _so unlike_ Alek, Alek with his teeth-gritting arrogance and very, very poor impulse control and the annoying, overconfident, loping way he walks.

But all Chloe's logic evaporates when he flashes that crooked grin, when he leans in close, when his broad shoulders with their curving blades shift beneath her hands. Sometimes she looks at him, his eyes burning dark copper in the moonlight or catching the afternoon sun that picks out their golden flecks, and she thinks that maybe, _maybe_she could love him one day. She is, however, quick to dismiss it as nothing but hormones, because, honestly, no matter what she tells Amy, what girl can resist sculpted cheekbones and a British accent?

Alek is dangerous. He makes her nerves tremble and her blood sing. When they fight, it's all-consuming, intense, overwhelming in its ferocity. At least, when she's with Brian, she doesn't spend every other minute wanting to hit something.

It's a choice between who makes her happy and who makes her feel alive.

But the end has come, and she has neither.

**iii.**

_maybe you'll always learn the hard way_

_maybe the only way is through_

_either way,_

_i am running back to you_

After the seventh glass or so, Alek wonders if the Mai can get drunk. It would be too cruel if he couldn't. The cognac smells fiery like Valentina and the scotch is the color of Jasmine's eyes.

"Alek."

Chloe's standing in front of him, hands on her hips, lips pursed in disapproval. Her pale face shines in the dim light and she's all smoke and colors and perhaps he _is_drunk, after all.

He gets to his feet, but the combined weight of exhaustion and alcohol buckles his knees and he collapses, falls into her arms.

"You've got to be kidding me," he hears her mutter, and he grins into her neck. She stiffens at this, at his lips moving slowly against her bare skin, and he wants to crow in triumph, because _yes,_yes_, darling, after everything, I can still do this you, I can still make you tense._How did she find him in this bar? He pictures her reaching for the tangles of his mind, or sniffing out his scent, or listening for his heartbeat amidst the noises of this vast city, and his hands move to clasp her shoulders and he nibbles his way down her neck, to the sharp line of her collarbone. Her breath hitches and he aches and _don't you see, this could be so easy, we were made for each other._

"Stop," she says at last. "Alek, stop that." She pulls away from him, shaking. "Come on. You have to go home."

"I don't have a home anymore," he says.

She flinches, because they both know it's true.

**iv.**

_tell me to run and i'll race_

_if you want me to stop i'll freeze_

_and if you are gonna leave_

_just hold me closer_

"So why are you here?" Chloe asks Alek. They're on her rooftop, with the cold wind blowing through their hair and the light of the stars bearing down on them in silver and ice.

"I'm going away for a while," he says.

"I'm coming with you," she immediately replies.

He shakes his head. "It's too dangerous. I have to find answers. I _need_ to do this. But I can't-"

_Lose you_are the unspoken words that hang in the air.

_Maybe I don't want to lose you, either,_she almost screams at him. _Ever thought of_that? But her chest is caving in with dread, holding back everything she wants to tell him.

"I just came to say goodbye." And then he's off, leaping from one roof to the next, and before she knows it she's chasing after him and she's shouting into the quiet night.

"Come back!" she yells, running, his retreating figure blurry against the stars, blurry through her tears. "Alek! Come back here!"

There's a moment when she swears she could have caught him, swears she feels the whisper of his jacket against her fingers, but Alek can be fast when he wants to be, faster than her, and he dodges and swerves and she is holding on to nothing but air.

"Come back," she gasps again, talking to no one, sinking to her knees. _Come back to me,_she wishes she could say. _Come back whole or wounded or different, but just come back._

Jasmine told her once that they weren't human and they weren't gods. They couldn't be the only ones._What is in between, what is left, who else walks the line-_Chloe King is sixteen years old and she has died twice and her heart has been broken too many times to count, and- _where are the angels now?_

**v.**

_all of your ways and all your thunder_

_got me in a haze, running for cover_

_there's only one half of us that i'm saving_

_so i'm praying just to let it go_

And it doesn't matter, really, whether he's tearing Jackals off him or running from members of the Order through the deep jungles, or withering from thirst or wincing as rainwater trickles into his open wounds. He sees her eyes before he fades out of consciousness, he hears her voice in his dreams, he remembers the sunlight in her hair even as fangs and claws rip him apart.

One day he wakes up in a small hospital in the middle of nowhere, his left arm in a cast, his skin covered in bandages and still clammy from the burning fever that leeched him dry.

"Who is Chloe?" the nurse asks in halting English, smiling kindly at him. "You say her name in your sleep. Is she your sweetheart?"

Alek's body is wracked with pain and his lips are cracked like paper and he thinks about Chloe and what she's doing now, on the other side of the world.

"She is everything," he says at last.

**vi.**

_it's been a long day_

_and all i've got to say is i've been wrong_

_it's been a long year_

_and everyone around me's disappeared_

She opens the door and there he is.

At first, she can do nothing but stare, anger and joy colliding in the corners of her heart. He's lost weight and he's covered in the imprints of old bruises and fading scars and his left arm hangs awkwardly at his side like it's been broken, but he's _there_and he's _alive_and she doesn't know what to do first, whether she should hug him or slam the door in his face.

Finally, she settles on asking, "Did you find what you were looking for?"

He nods. "Yeah, I did."

Chloe's relief at hearing the sound of his voice, at hearing that familiar accent again after all this time is so overwhelming that she almost collapses. He continues hurriedly, "And I found you, too."

She blinks. "What?"

"I found you everywhere," he murmurs through the cuts on his lips, his gaze never leaving her face, a million stories in his eyes. "No matter where I went. South America. Tokyo. Nairobi. You were there."

Various responses flit through her mind, some sarcastic, some frustrated, some filled with longing. _I bet you say that to all the girls- why didn't you write- I missed you- don't go away again-_but she doesn't really know which one to go with, so she doesn't say anything at all. Instead, she steps back and opens the door wider, inviting him in.

**vii.**

_your hands can heal_

_your hands can bruise_

_i don't have a choice_

_but i'd still choose you_

This is as Alek remembers the first time he sees Chloe: she's talking to her friends, the corners of her mouth crinkling with laughter; she's running a hand through her golden hair, awash in the sunlight pouring into the hallway. Her eyes are dancing and in that moment he swears she's the most beautiful girl in the world.

**end**


End file.
